


Out Of The Darkness, Light

by GallifreyanOmnishambles



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: 1980s music, Alternate Universe - 1980s, Alternate Universe - Historical, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Co-workers, Condoms, Dialect, Fish & Chips, Hux is a mine foreman, Kylo is an Army reject, M/M, Major Character Injury, Masturbation, Miners Strike, Minor Character Death, Misunderstandings, Oral Sex, Pining, Politics, Riots, Roommates, Slurs, Things get political, Voyeurism, Yorkshire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-27
Updated: 2016-04-27
Packaged: 2018-06-04 19:19:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 20,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6672220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GallifreyanOmnishambles/pseuds/GallifreyanOmnishambles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>1976- A brilliant would-be engineering student is forced to take up coal mining after the death of his father. 1979- The privileged son of a Tory politician runs away to join the Army. Life is not kind to either of them, or to Britain as a whole, when in 1984 the National Coal Board announce 20 colliery closures and 142,000 miners go on strike. In the middle of it all "General" Brendol Hux Jr meets Ben "Kylo" Ren...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Out Of The Darkness, Light

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt was "any sort of historical AU"

  **Grimley, South Yorkshire, August 1976**

"Dopheld, we can't." Hux gasped, as the smaller man tried to manoeuvre him closer to the wall. "Nor 'ere. Look, we both gonna London yeah? We can do all this once we're there."

"You weren't sayin’ tha’ in Manchester!" Dopheld said, his voice muffled against the redhead's neck but the anger still clear. "Not to me, or any o' other lads."

"I didn't know it were you."

"So it's all reet to fuck some stranger in a club but not your best mate?" He asked. His erection was pressed hard against the front of Hux' jeans, but his torso was leaning away now. He was crying, that prim little mouth that held a multitude of wicked secrets turned down in a hurt frown.

"I don't want to hurt you."

"You're hurting me now by sayin’ no."

"That in’t how this works, you know that." Hux said, stroking his hand through the other man's short black hair, doing his best to comfort him. "Look, Dopper, if my dad finds out about this he'd just give me a sad look, but if your dad finds us he'll kill you. You know he will. Once we're at uni, we're free, yeah?"

"Yeah, you're reet." Dopheld nodded. He still looked sad, standing there in that cold dark alleyway with his cock out.

Hux sighed and rolled his eyes. "For fucks sake, come 'ere!" He spun the other man around, shoved him flat against the wall and dropped to his knees. "This is gonna have to last you, though." He muttered, taking him in his mouth. Why did he always end up with the blokes with no self control?

 

* * *

 

"Is that your result letter?" Margaret asked her son as she set the teapot in the middle of the table, carefully adjusting the cosy.

"Aye."

"Are you not gonna open it?"

"Dad'll be back off his shift soon," Hux said, breaking open a soft boiled egg and selecting a toast soldier. "I thought I'd open it with both o' thee, if tha dun't mind waiting?"

"That's a good idea, love," his mother said. "Ee I can't believe you're almost ready to go off to London like a lil' Lord Fauntleroy!"

"I dun’t think that's quite what tha’ book was about Ma..."

"Well, he were posh anyway." She waved a hand dismissively. "Once you're in London you'll be posh and you'll forget all about us poor folk."

Hux was hurt. "Ma! Dun’t be like..."

There was a heavy knock at the front door. No one used the front door. They all used the back door, walking up the alleyway between the yards and squeezing past the outhouse and the coal shed. Only debt collectors and the police used the front. Hux's stomach turned to lead as his mother left the table, fumbling in her pocket for a key to answer the door.

"Mrs Hux?" He knew that voice, that slightly put on accent of a man who thinks he has more authority that he really possessed- Constable Finn.

"Margaret, love, I'm so sorry..." That second voice he knew all too well from nights down at the Miner's Social with his dad. It was Poe Dameron, the day shift foreman.

Hux jumped up from the table so fast that his chair tipped over onto the lino with a thump. He made into the hall just in time to hear Dameron say those horrible words and catch his mother as she fainted.

Beyond their perfectly scrubbed doorstep he could see the other housewives peering out of doorways and windows. Already the too well practiced machinery of industrial bereavement was in motion. Soon the house would be full of well meaning women in hairnets- cleaning, bringing food, muttering about keeping up appearances, and never ever admitting that they were glad it wasn't their husband coming home in a box.

Kneeling beside his mother's unconscious form on the threadbare hall carpet Hux looked up at these men with their ineffectual platitudes and he hated them, standing there twisting their hats in their hands, doing nothing to help, never ever doing anything to help anyone.

"What happened?" Hux said, his voice cracking for the first time in four years, like the death of his father had undone all the gains of puberty and he was child again, not a man of six feet. The man of the house now. He tensed his face, refusing to allow himself to react, whatever the answer might be.

"Young Rey, t'apprentice, tried to put their hand into t'conveyer belt to free a jam wi' out turnin' it off first." Dameron said, refusing to meet his gaze. "Yer dad stopped 'em but his shirt got tangled and well... I'm sorry, lad, but it's gonna have to be a closed casket funeral."

Hux lunged to punch the smarmy little shit in his smug face, but Finn caught him before the blow could connect. Shoving the man away he dropped to his knees and vomited into the gutter. From the corner of his eyes he could see all the housewives clumped together now, crowding the neighbouring doorsteps, whispering their relief that it wasn't a collapse, that no one else was hurt, it was only Brendol Hux that was dead. The rest of the shift were filing home now, taking the long route back out of curiosity, staring at their foreman's unconscious widow but refusing to meet the eyes of his son.

"Look, I know you're upset," Dameron said, snapping Hux out of his seething thoughts, "take care of your mam and we'll send someone round later to talk to her. Be strong lad, you're in charge now."

 

* * *

 

Hux stood in the yard in the twilight, away from all the twittering women, chain smoking cheap cigs and turning his results letter over in his hands.

There didn't seem to be much point in reading it now. Not after what the undertaker had said about the funeral bill, and what the lawyer from the mine had said about Ma's pension.

"Hux?" A voice hissed from the other side of the alley wall.

"Fuck off Dopper." Hux replied flatly. He didn't have the energy for this right now. The smaller man scaled the wall anyway, dropping down beside him and lighting a cig of his own, a much nicer brand.

"I'm sorry about your dad mate."

"Yeah." What the fuck was he supposed to say to that.

"Is that your results?" Dopheld continued, oblivious to Hux's closed off body language.

"Yeah." Please leave.

"What's it say?"

"I dunt know." Hux shrugged. "Hardly matters owt at all, now."

"Wha? Course it matters! It's our ticket out of 'ere Hux! London! Freedom!" Dopheld said, waving a hand in the wrong direction entirely. "A chance to really be us. All those clubs Hux! Come on. You promised."

"Me mam'll lose her house if I leave." Hux said with bitter resignation. He pinched out the butt of his cigarette, slipping it into his pocket to retrieve the last bit of baccy later. He'd have to switch to roll-ups soon. "I can't afford to move to London and pay her rent 'ere, not when I'm doing an engineering degree. There in’t enough time in t'day."

"What? NO!! You can't! You promised!" Dopheld snapped, snatching the letter from the redheads slim fingers. He blocked Hux with his elbows as he tore it open and scanned the results. "You got FIVE fucking 'A's Hux! And you took two Special Papers? You never told me that?! You got distinctions on both of them too. Fuck me, you got a fucking scholarship to Oxford! And an unconditional offer for London! You can't not go!!"

"Me mam comes first." Hux said through gritted teeth.

"Oh fuck your mam, she'll be fine."

Hux punched him. It wasn't a conscious decision. His fist seemed to move of his own accord. He'd needed to fight someone all day, and here was this stupid little prick who never had to worry about money; who'd gotten in the grammar school without even having to sit the eleven plus; who'd never felt an ounce of love for his family; or scrabbled in the dirt just to feed them. The first blow split Dopheld's lip and Hux's knuckles, the second caught him in the ribs. Then Dopper was up and fighting dirty, all nails and teeth and elbows. It only ended when the kitchen light snapped on and one of the visiting women peered out the window at them. Hux caught the bloody man by the collar and tossed him through the backgate into the alley.

"Fuck you, Hux," Dopheld spat from the ground, wiping blood from his eyes with the back of his hand. "Fuck you, you lying coward. I loved you. I'd've done anything for you and you fucking lied to me. You're gonna die 'ere Hux, you're gonna die 'ere sad and alone and you'll never know a moment of 'appiness cos you'll never be you." He staggered to his feet, grabbing the tall man by the back of the neck and pulling him down to his level, foreheads pushed painfully together as he hissed, "You think these people will let you stay once they find out what you are? What you like to do at night with boys like me? They'll fucking run you out of town and your mam'll still lose her house, and her dignity with it."

He shoved Hux away then, so he stumbled and fell into the dirt of the alley floor.

Too numb to think about anything he'd heard, Hux pulled himself up and made his way silently back into the house. He didn't turn to watch Dopper get swallowed up by the darkness.

Over the years he pushed every memory of that vain, greedy man deep into the depth of his mind, summoning his image only rarely. At first he only thought of him during encounters at the one Manchester club he still visited before a raid closed it, later when he was alone in his bed and beyond any kind of abstract relief.

Hux wouldn't see Dopheld Mitaka again in the flesh until 1983, and then he'd be a wasted shell of his former self, come home to die. Hux knew he'd told his parents it was cancer, he also knew it was that terrifying disease haunting the London scene and killing in droves. They each apologised, though neither of them really meant it. He was dead a week later. Hux was the only non-relative at the funeral.

 

* * *

 

**Ottery St Mary, Devon, August 1979**

"Really, Ben?" Leia sighed over her morning cup of Earl Grey. "How on earth do you expect to get into Oxford with grades like these?!"

"Don't wanna go to Oxford," muttered Ben Solo, 3rd Viscount Organa, into his mug of overly milky sugary tea. His mother hated that mug, with a cheap caricature of her father printed on the side. Ben loved it because it was his grandfather, and because it made her so irrationally angry. "I wanna join the SAS, you know that."

"The SAS is really not a suitable job for a boy of your standing, Ben. What would people thing?"

"The military was good enough for granddad, why not for me?" He said petulantly, stabbing at his mountain of scrambled eggs like they were some enemy to be defeated.

"Your grandfather was a Field Marshall," his father said from behind the Financial Times. "If you wanted to train as an officer that would be different. We could support that. But do you really think Anakin Skywalker would want his grandchild signing up for the rank and file?"

"He wasn't always Field Marshall..."

"But he was always an officer, Ben."

"He throttled three Nazi Fallschirmjäger with his bare hands when they tried to capture him during the North African campaign. He fought his way out of a village surrounded by Panzerkampf on the Russian Front." Ben said, warming to his favourite topic. "He earned the nickname Darth Vader for a reason, and it wasn't sitting behind a desk sending other men out to die."

"Ben, please." Leia snapped, placing her cup on the table a little too forcefully. "Your grandfather might have been a brave soldier but he was not a good man. Don't delude yourself that he never hurt innocent people. Some of the air strikes he ordered were down right evil, if you can't see..."

"If it weren't for my granddad we'd all be speaking German right now! He won." Ben was shouting now. He knew he shouldn't, it never helped but they both made him so angry. "That's all that matters. Winning. I know it wouldn't make one whit of difference to you, with your fascist politics, or him," he jabbed an accusing finger at the oblivious man behind the newspaper, "it'd make it easier for him to make a profit. But some of us actually care about the people of this country."

Snatching up his plate, and the rest of the tureen of scrambled eggs, Ben stormed off towards his room.

Have way up the stairs he heard his mother sigh, "I wish he were more like his namesake."

"There's something wrong with that boy, Leia, always has been," Han started to say. Ben stomped more forcefully as he climbed the stairs, drowning out those oft heard words.

Without a hand free to lock the door, he resorted to flopping down to sit on the floor with his back to the wood. He doubted either of his self-involved parents would come looking for him; but if they did they'd have no chance of shifting his bulk.

Ben was proud of his muscles. He'd hated his boarding school- the prestigious J.E.D.I. Academy- where he'd been bullied for his awkward height and too long limbs, his strong facial features a constant source of merriment for his classmates. It hadn't helped that the headmaster was his mother's twin, and Professor Skywalker refused to "show favouritism" by punishing his tormentors.

When his dorm mates had gone through the ravages of puberty the shy awkward Ben had been a natural target- with his pretty lips and too long hair perfect for pulling. What the other boys hadn't expected in Ben was a deep, previously-untapped well of creative violence.

Despite his towering height Ben had always been made to feel small, weak and pathetic- by his overachieving mother, his adventurous father, his family history; by every teacher and authority figure he'd ever met. So when he'd snapped that first boy's arm like a twig he'd been shocked to find he possessed a strength he'd never expected. The other four who'd snuck up to his bed had tried to subdue him so the could take their revenge for the first. He'd hospitalised the lot of them and been severely caned for his trouble. But word had gotten out. It had reached the mysterious band of older boys who called themselves the Knights of REN, after the long forgotten founder of their society of violence. They took a liking to Ben and he was soon sneaking out every night to fight and train behind the greenhouses.

He'd expanded quickly, like his body was made for muscles. Within a year he'd had a body like a Roman god, more scars than he could count, and a place in the school swimming team. He'd taken up water polo, then standard polo, dressage, he'd joining the fencing club, archery, boxing, wrestling, even rugby- though he rarely played well with others. The quiet meek boy too tall for his skin had become a force of nature- popular despite his appalling social skills and volatile temper, because he always won. Now that school was over he had no intention of letting all that hard work go to waste at Oxford. He'd join the armed forces and he'd show them all what he could do.

Still shovelling cold eggs into his mouth he contemplated his mother's last words. "I wish he were more like his name sake." What Leia probably didn't know, or would at least never admit to herself, was the Ben was more like the long dead Benjamin Kenobi than a casual observer might realise.

All his life Ben had heard tales of the wise monk-like 'Old Ben' who had been a childhood friend on his grandfather and a stand-in parent when Anakin had fled the country to become a mercenary in the wake of his wife's death in childbirth. He'd never cared much for the stories. Kenobi was too passive for Ben's liking. No doubt he would have been a disappointment to the young man, if he hadn't been accidentally killed during an argument with Anakin shortly after the twins' 19th birthday.

It had been on his own 16th birthday- sulking in the attic because his parents had missed the day in favour of a business trip, again- that Ben had found the small wooden chest bearing his grandfather's seal. He'd forced the lock easily with his fingers. Inside he'd found Anakin's academy and wartime correspondence. The first layer had been his love letters to his wife, Padmé, from their first meeting before the war to the week before her death. Beneath those had been letters collected by author- Prime Minister Palpatine, General Grievous, Ahsoka Tano. Nothing from Ben Kenobi. At first Ben had thought that Anakin might have destroyed them after the accident. It was only when he'd taken the box back to his room and looked at it under sunlight that he'd noticed the lining at the bottom was a different colour to the rest. It was a hidden compartment containing five years of love letters from Ben Kenobi to Anakin Skywalker. Although Anakin had loved Padmé with a devotion bordering on obsession, he'd conducted an affair with his instructor that the older man had seemingly never recovered from. There were a few letters, dated much later, in which Kenobi begged Anakin to come home from his self destructive missions in South America and the Far East. There was no indication that Anakin even replied. And yet he'd kept the correspondence all those years.

Despite the tragic ending, young Ben had found it reassuring that those two had been able to find companionship together. It was still his most sincerely, and secretly, held wish that he would one day find a man who could tolerate his moods and look on his impulsive habits with fondness. Perhaps he would find that in the armed forces.

Standing with a sigh Ben moved to begin packing his bags. He intended to climb out a window overnight and make his way to London to find a recruitment centre. Anything had to be better than staying here.

 

* * *

 

**Grimley Advertiser, 14th February 1980**

Local Man Hailed As Hero as Ten Survive Grimley Pit Collapse

Local miner Brendol Hux Jr., 22, has been hailed as a hero today after his quick thinking and personal sacrifice saved the lives of nine of his colleagues.

A machinery failure on the number 7 coal seam caused a tunnel collapse in the early hours on Wednesday morning at Grimley Colliery. Mr Hux - son of Brendol Hux Sr. who died saving the life of an apprentice at the same pit in 1976 - was able to delay the total roof collapse using a drill and his own body as props until all the men in that chamber had moved to safety. The only serious injury sustained in the accident was suffered by Mr Hux himself. Although his present condition is unknown, word from his colleagues at the pit head suggests that the young man's left arm may require amputation. A collection is being taken at Grimley Miner's Social Club in support of the heroic young Mr Hux and his widowed mother at this difficult time.

 

* * *

 

**Sennybridge, Brecon Beacons, Wales, July 1982**

"Get in the car this instant!" Leia snapped at the bedraggled, mud and blood covered figure that she grudgingly had to admit was her son. Ben didn't move, letting the rain soak him without any reaction.

"Goddammit!" Han muttered after a minute, scrambling out of the back seat of the Rolls Royce to bodily drag Ben into the car. He threw his pack in after him, letting it land roughly onto his lap. Ben flinched but didn't speak, his full lips pressed tight together in a sour frown, blood oozing slowly from multiple splits in the soft flesh.

"I hope you appreciate how much it just cost us to make all that go away, Ben!" Leia said as the car moved off. "It was bad enough when you ran away and joined up in the place! Do you realise how embarrassing that was for your father and I? Then I get called out of parliamentary sessions to be told that _my son_ tried to kill his superior officer?! In the middle of the selection process no less! All these years of trouble you've given us because you wanted to be in the SAS and you ruin everything at the last hurdle! Why, Ben, why in gods name did you do this? It's a good thing Tarkin is a personal friend and agreed to just discharge you."

 _A personal friend._ Ben thought bitterly to himself, silently fuming, refusing to answer his mother's questions because she'd never understand or take his side. _A personal friend who just this morning trapped your son in the shower block and tried to do unspeakable things to him. What a good friend, that he had the rest of the recruits beat me for daring to defend myself. My career in ruins all because I said no. I notice you're not asking about my injuries are you mother? Do you really think wizened old Tarkin could have done this to me?_

Ben didn't reply. After a few minutes Leia and Han shared a look and left their son to staring at his hands in silence. It was a long uncomfortable car journey, the first of many over the next two years.

 

* * *

 

**Grimley, South Yorkshire, 1983**

"Ah well, this government's tryin' to tear heart out o' this industry. They're happy to stomp our communities flat, and crush the spirit of The Working Man to line t'pockets of their London cronies," Snoke said, running his eye across the line of miners moving towards the pit head and the start of a new shift. "We've gotta do what we can to help 'em, keep fighting to keep as many pits open as we can. But we've got to stand together. Ah can't be everywhere at once, lad."

Jeremy nodded as he stood at the infamous Union leader's side. The wind was bitingly cold and seemed to come from everywhere at once, whipping coal dust and diesel fumes in the faces of the gathered Union men. Of courseJeremy hadn't intended to get involved with Snoke's cause, but his father, as a good Cambridge Communist had insisted he take the job when he'd failed to find employment with his architectural degree. The elder Jerrod had insisted that time amongst The Working Man would help his son find his true calling.

So far the only calling Jeremy had heard was the siren song of the warm public bar and beer prices so much cheaper than London.

"Who's that one?" Snoke asked after a minute of silence, one impossibly long arm slicing through the air to point at a redheaded man pacing along the line of waiting miners, apparently delivering some kind of encouraging lecture. "The jumped up little prick wi’ his coat slung ovah his shoulders."

Next to him Poe Dameron shifted uneasily. He really shouldn't be seen talking to these men, not in public anyway.

"Uh, that's Brendol Hux, sir, they call..."

"Dun't call me 'sir', lad! I'll not be having any o'that from yor."

"Sorry... Arthur, that's Brendol Hux," Poe continued, licking his lips nervously, "you knew his dad, same name. Went to every march and meeting he could, 'til he died. His lad's a good 'un, they call 'im t'General cos he'll shout himsen blue in face to keep everyone in line, but when he's on shift they're like a well oiled machine. Accidents are down. Productivity is up. He really cares about the men. Saved nine men an' himsen in a collapse a few year back. Nearly lost an arm. That's why he wears his coat like that, easier not to struggle wi' it when he's going down pit again soon anyway."

"Brendol Hux' son," Snoke said thoughtfully, "dedicated to t'point of self sacrifice. That'll do nicely. Bring 'im to me, I want a word."

 

* * *

 

**St Stephen's Tavern, Westminster, January 1984**

"Well, well, if it isn't Kylo REN!" The sharp suited man said quietly as he patted Ben on the back in a very specific rhythm.

Glancing up from his pint of mild Ben looked into a face he'd not seen since the summer of '79.

"Romon REN!" He replied in the same low tone, clapping the man on the padded shoulder of his jacket and squeezing three fingers just so. The smile on his face was genuine but looked odd for being unpracticed.

He hated being in Westminster, surrounded by scoundrels and sycophants, but Leia insisted that he follow her everywhere and learn the art of politicking, since he's failed to find anything but security work after he was booted from the Army. That sort of thing wasn't right for their son, they'd insisted- too great a risk given his parents prominent positions. Not a concern for his safety of course, just what people would say if anyone found out.

"Can I buy you a pint?" Romon said much louder, signalling to the bar man before Ben had had a chance to answer. Of course Romon wasn't his real name, any more than Kylo was Ben's, but those were the names they'd used back at the Academy. Seven boys in the secret society learning to fight, building themselves up to survive in a world that might not look kindly on them. Ben had worked hard to maintain his physique, even after he'd left the Army. He'd felt firm muscles under his fingers when he'd touched Romon's shoulder and was glad that despite his clean cut image the man had kept up his own training.

As the slimmer man lead them both to a small table- half hidden in a shadowy alcove- Ben tried to remember the others actual name. It had been something beginning with T. Given that this was the first man he'd ever kissed, Ben felt increasingly guilty that he couldn't remember his name and was blushing furiously when they finally sat down.

"Best to call me 'Tom' in here," Romon said, as if reading his mind. "What are you doing these days? I thought you were going to join the SAS but Tanma, I mean Mike, saw you following Leia Solo around the House of Commons. Isn't she your mum?"

"Yeah," Ben said, gloomily studying the condensation forming on his glass. "Got kicked out of the Army. Some... shit... happened. The kinda stuff we used to train for, back in the day, but one guy can't stand up to twelve no matter how strong he is."

"Christ, mate, are you ok?"

Ben shrugged. "I dunno. Leia wants me to follow her into politics and Han just wants me to get a job that won't embarrass him. Though frankly any job he approved of would embarrass _me_. And as for her politics..."

"Ever thought about being a spy?"

It was said with such quiet sincerity that Ben almost didn't laugh. Almost. "What? Like James Bond, double oh seven, licence to kill bollocks? No mate, I look stupid in a tux."

"No, I mean like industrial espionage, strike breaking, that kind of thing..."

 

* * *

 

**Grimley, South Yorkshire, January 1984**

"Got a new lad 'ere for you General!"

The shout echoed across the yard like a clap of thunder, drawing the attention of every man at the pit head. Phasma enjoyed the little things in life and since answering phones and making tea was boring as hell she'd make the most of her chances to do something fun. Like shouting over heavy industrial machinery without the aid of the tannoy system. Everyone said she had a good set of lungs on her. One brave lad had once tried to test out the theory that there was another good pair of something under the bulky knits she wore. But all he got was three broken fingers and a ruptured testicle, so the theory remained unproven.

Ben was fascinated. She was actually taller than him, even before he took her tottering white high heels into account. He suspected from her handshake that she might well have muscles to rival his own. By comparison the man tramping across the muddy yard in a battered greatcoat was tiny.

The brilliant red hair revealed as he removed his helmet at the bottom of the office stairs was a surprise in itself. Everything Ben had seen in so far in this town was coated with a century thick layer of coal dust and residue from the mine and the nearby steel mills. It gave the streets a depressed and shabby air, like a television programme filmed in colour but only ever watched on a black and white set. To see a splash of beautiful flaming orange in that drab landscape, it was as if the sun had come out after years of rain... Where the hell had that come from?!

The man was still only halfway up the stairs and Ben was already starting to panic. When he'd been told he'd be working in a coal mine he'd been expecting grizzled, dead-eyed men made prematurely old by hard work in horrible conditions. So far he'd been met by a boisterous Amazon and well. This... Gentleman. And that really was the word that came to mind as the "General" approached him. He was delicate looking beneath the huge cost that Ben only now realised was draped over his shoulders rather than worn. All long slim fingers and stick thin limbs moving with a grace Ben wouldn't have expected from a manual labourer.

And then he was level with Ben- actually level with him- surprisingly despite his delicate build the man was only an inch or two shorter. His exact height was hard to tell for sure in his steel toe-capped boots but Ben didn't have to bend to look him in the eye like he usually did with his family. That was a relief. Like his hair the man's eyes were another surprising splash of colour- somewhere between green and blue- that changed with the light as they ran over Ben's frame, silently judging. By the sneer that curled his plush lips, he found him wanting.

Ben dropped his eyes to the scuffed toes of his trainers, disappointed by the dissatisfaction on the other man's face and the worrying turn of his own thoughts. Waxing lyrical about hair and eyes and lips before he'd even exchanged a single word with this man? He was twenty three years old, not some mooning teenager.

"General, this is Kyl-o Renford," Phasma said, glancing at the papers in her hand. "Kyl-o this..."

"It's Kyle O as in Oscar Renford," Ben cut in, his ears turning pink at the odd sound of his old codename spoken in her broad Yorkshire accent.

"Well, Kyle O Renford, I'm Brendol Hux and I'll be in charge o' training you," the redhead said as he held out one slender hand. After a moment's hesitation Ben took it, intently aware than his face bad drained of colour when Hux had spoken the name that had sounded so wrong a moment ago. It sounded just right in his mouth. Jesus Christ, Ben, keep it cool, don't let your brain start down a path you can't follow.

"Pleased to meet you."

Hux had paused in the act of shaking his hand, rough fingertips drifting over the mostly smooth plains of Ben's palm. He seemed to be considering the size and texture of his new hire’s hands. Beside them Phasma snorted before wandering back into the office in search of coffee, and maybe the biscuit tin, anything but watching those two moonstruck idiots.

"You're bigger than we normally take, a lot bigger. Wun't you be better off ovah at t'steel mill? They could do wi' blokes like you in t'smelting shop, handling t'ladles and t'heavy lifting."

"I'm not great with intense heat," Ben said, remembering the many scripts Romon had required him to learn. "And I'm used to crawling about in unpleasant conditions. And I'm lighter on my feet than I might look."

"Alreet, if you're sure," Hux shrugged, an odd gesture that seemed to involve only one shoulder. "Follow me. First things first, we'll get you into proper gear. Them shoes won't do you a lick o' good it a machine falls on you or there's a cave in. You want boots that can take owt. Same goes for gloves and helmet. Don't take 'em off, I don't care how hot or sweaty you get, you keep em on. You'll see a lot o' blokes down there wi' not shirts on. I dun't encourage it meself but if you wanna do it that's your choice."

They'd crossed the edge of the yard whilst Hux had been speaking, entering a shed filled with spare safety gear. "I just bloody hope we've got stuff that'll fit you! What shoe size are ya?"

"Umm... 13."

"Bloody hell." Hux grumbled, digging through boxes. Eventually he dragged a ladder across the floor and hopped up to reach the top shelf. Kylo frowned slightly as he noticed that the other man didn't use his left hand a great deal, bracing himself with his knees for balance while his grip on the ladder was surprisingly loose. "Catch!"

A box sailed towards Ben's head and he snatched it out of the air. Hux snorted as if trying not to laugh. For some reason it made his stomach tingle. Uh oh.

 

* * *

 

Ben was no stranger to hard work, whatever the standards of his class, which of course no one here knew about. He'd been working out up to three hours a day since he was thirteen. He could lift well over his own weight. On bad days stuck at home he'd run marathon distances around the grounds just to keep his mind busy and to prove that he could do it. In the Army he'd passed every physical assessment with flying colours, though more than one quartermaster had lamented about his over large frame. Until he'd arrived in Grimley Ben would have said that he could take on any challenge.

As he collapsed facedown on the musty mattress on the floor of his bedsit he found himself forced to reassess that opinion. He ached. Everywhere. His spine had been replaced by fire and his fingers were composed entirely of broken glass.

Hux was relentless in his training. Even the older miners, especially the ones who'd transferred in from other collieries had commented on it. They complained about the way he nagged about equipment and protocols. Some might go so far as to call him a sissy or worse, words that made Ben's hackles and shoulder blades rise in well learned fear. But then someone else would mutter a word or two about the man's father or about his arm and it would never be mentioned again.

He'd been treated to the tale of the death of Hux Senior on his second day on the job, shadowing some of the men assigned to monitor the more basic equipment, forbidden from touching or moving too close, still learning to make his bulk small enough for the tunnels. None of the men telling the story had known the elder Hux, that much was immediately clear. The men who had still spoke of him with a respectful awe, like a much loved monarch, sadly missed. On the other hand these men thought it was funny. Ben imagined that they had never actually witnessed a serious injury or a violent death. He had. He'd read about so many incidents in his grandfather's journals, even before he'd witnessed the casual cruelty of schoolboys or the grisly accidents that arise from sleep deprivation and live weaponry. He hadn't reacted to their story. Had stared at them and calmly continued with his sandwiches. He soon developed a reputation as a hard man after that.

The injuries of the Junior Hux were not a subject for fun however, not even amongst the newcomers. It had been three weeks before he'd heard even a whisper of what had happened.

He'd been showing off for Phasma, not out of any desire to flirt but because the woman had a genuine interest in muscles and an impressive physique of her own, hidden away beneath neon colours and baggy layers. Hux had walked into the office just as he was pulling the rear double bicep pose- fists curled up by his ears to show off the width of his back and thickness of his arms- and the man's coat had slipped off his shoulders to land with a loud flump on the thin wooden floors. Ben had turned just as Hux was bending to pick it up. He was flushed red from ears to throat, which Ben thought a little odd since dropping a coat wasn't that embarrassing.

Once the coat was retrieved it soon became clear that getting it back on was a more difficult task than Ben would have imagined. Hux had the use of his fingers and could easily flex his elbow but the shoulder joint hardly moved at all.

"Do you want some help?" Ben asked after watching him struggle for a minute or so, uncomfortable at seeing the rigidly dignified man wrestling with a relatively simple task. The look he received in response should have set his hair alight. With a slam of the door, still trailing his coat behind him, Hux was gone.

"Don't do that." Phasma said flatly, retrieving the stack of forms the other man had left behind. "General dun't like that, he dun't need anyone's help, especially when he does."

She pulled a face that clearly showed her opinion of proud men who were unwilling to bend.

"What happened?" Ben asked, then regretted be callous sound of the question. "I mean, I've heard people mention his arm when people complain about him getting on at us for little things so, something must have happened? Was it like his dad?"

"Sort of," Phasma said, "some daft sod didn't listen to his advice, caused a collapse cos they were older than him and thought they knew better. Hux was gunna be an engineer afore his dad died, an' he knows what he's talkin' about. Reads a lot. Studies like. So they shoulda listened. He got 'em all out Hux did, but he were a mess afterwards. Poe thought he were dead for sure. Then t'doctors thought he might lose his arm. Proved 'em wrong on both counts, our General did!"

"You're proud of him."

"O' course I bloody am, we've got best safety record of the whole bloody Coal Board now thanks to 'im. You make sure you listen to what he tells ya."

And Ben had. He'd listened to every word and completed every task, which was why he was now face down and unable to move. Hux had seen every obedience and demanded more. If he had to have a man mountain working in his shift then he was going to make full use of him.

There was a knock at his door.

"What?"

"Oh that's charming that is!" Came the peevish voice of his landlady.

"Sorry Miss Kanata!" He called, dragging himself up off the floor and shuffling to the door. "I was asleep. Sorry. What can I do for you?"

"There's some bloke from the pit downstairs asking for you." She said, setting off back down the narrow stairs. "You'll have to come down to find out what he wants. I don't allow guests in my rooms, I'll not have any goings on under my roof and you never can tell with some people."

Hux was standing in the entryway and had clearly heard this little monologue by the way he stared intently at the floor trying not to smile. Ben was glad he wasn't looking at him as he edged down the steep narrow staircase, half afraid for his life since every step was a different height and not one of them was wide enough for even half of his foot.

"Hello, General."

"Alreet Kylo our lad." It wasn't said with a smile, Ben had never seen the man actually smile, just twist his face as he suppressed the urge. The smaller man seemed a great deal smaller today, the greatcoat gone, replaced by a worn and patched tweed sports coat, a flat cap hiding his brilliant hair.

"It's Kyle."

"Aye and my name in't General is it?" Hux said, raising a eyebrow. "There's worse things we could call you, lad."

"Suppose so." He said with a shrug. It was just odd to hear a codename with such visceral associations used in such a context, albeit unknowingly. He did like how it sounded when Hux said it. "What's going on?"

"I was on me way to t'pub, and t'lads were wondering if you were ever gonna join us? I can spot ya a round or two if you're struggling," he said tactfully, eying the house and pretending not to see Marieanne Kanata watching them through the crack in the doorway.

"I don't really drink."

"It's just a few pints. Most of the lads can't afford much more than five a night. Don't worry about that." Seeing Ben's eyebrows rise at that he added, "Lad your size you won't even notice, beer in t'Red Lion is practically pop anyway. And besides, it'll get you out of here for a bit."

There was an angry harrumph from the kitchen. It made up Ben's mind- if he stayed she'd just spend the night complaining about about his rude friends anyway.

"Alright, just let me grab my wallet."

"Reet." Hux said, fishing a bag of rolling baccy out of a trouser pocket, and glaring in the direction of the hidden landlady. "I'll just wait outside for ya then."

 

* * *

 

It became a habit surprisingly quickly. Coming back to his room exhausted, shoving a poor meal of badly cooked anything into his face and then meeting Hux under the lamp at the end of the street. On Fridays they paused at the chip shop on their way to the pub, sitting on a low wall to eat fried potatoes and battered fish out of folded old newspapers, reading headlines of doom and gloom around the grease stains.

The pub was warm, with its roaring fire and the press of bodies. Men came to avoid their wives or their children, or the cost of heating their own homes. Conversation was common but rarely deep. The population of the time was living in fear of pit and mill closure- it was better to talk about safe things like football rather than risk straying into unhappy territory. Having grown up with rugby and more refined sports it was a struggle for Ben to find common ground, until he accidentally revealed his knowledge of horses. Suddenly every betting man in the establishment wanted to buy Kylo a pint and bend his ear on the odds for one race or another. Ben was glad he'd served with a mostly Northern battalion during his time in the Army. The accents here were strong, especially the older men, too poor for false teeth and too deaf from the industrial noise of forty years service in the steel industry. Most of them took a teasing dislike to 'Kylo'- mocking his Southern accent and longish hair, but in a way that was always aware of his huge size and the strength that probably contained.

Although he'd been the one to invite him, and the one to sit by his side every evening Hux himself said little. Nursing a pint or two for the entire evening, watching over the conversations like a king monitoring the goings on of his court. Every so often he'd leave the table to sit with others, talking in low tones, patting shoulders, slipping pamphlets into pockets.

Ben watched those exchanges- head tipped forward so his hair hide his eyes- and took note.

On Saturdays they went to the miners social club, for slightly better beer and the chance to watch some local singer or other take to the tiny stage at the back of the club. There were more women here, mostly wives, but it wasn't exactly the kind of entertainment Ben had been used to, especially when the bingo started and silence was rigidly enforced.

 

* * *

 

At the end of February Ben suggested something different, partially out of boredom but mostly driven by a need to get into the nearest city. He'd gathered what information he could on potential unrest in the area, and frankly there was very little of it. He knew that Hux was involved in the Union, had in fact talked Kylo into join himself, but there was no sign that the man intended anything more radical than helping his fellow workers. Ben needed further instruction. If he could combine that with a real night out on the tiles then all the better.

Since he had to see Romon... Tom... first, Ben had suggested meeting Hux outside the Roebuck pub. It was was close enough to Sheffield's famous Top Rank nightclub without actually giving away the fact that Ben had managed to get tickets to see Heaven 17. He had no idea if Hux would actually like pop music- they'd never discussed anything like that and the man's fondness for the clothes worn by his father's generation suggested otherwise- but perhaps this was a chance to show the sheltered man some new things.

Ben arrived early, and took up a stance leaning against a lamppost where he could see the front of the pub, the collar of his leather jacket turned up against the wind. There was a man standing a few feet away, hair neatly gelled, the sleeves of his white shoulder-padded jacket rolled up to reveal delicate wrists as he smoked. Every inch a man of fashion and just the sort of bloke Ben might have checked out only a few months before. Now he just wanted to see that fiery hair sticking out for under a flat cap. So he did his best not to look or think about offering himself up as a bit of rough for such a well put together yuppy. The angle hid most of the man's face but as his lips closed around his cigarette Ben found himself imagining those full pink lips parting against the head of his cock. Blushing crimson Ben intentionally diverted his eyes.

After a minute or two the other man sighed and dropped his cigarette to the floor, grinding it under his heel.

"Are thee not gunna say hello then?" Hux said, stepping closer. Ben stared, struck dumb with astonishment at the change in his colleagues appearance. Scrubbed clean of the mine's all pervading dust, hair carefully styled back from his face- Hux was almost unrecognisable, even before the sharp suit was taken in account. The more he looked, the more Ben felt the need to take it into account because it fitted the redhead like a glove. He was sure, on some level, that he shouldn't find the tailoring that emphasised the General's fine boned frame quite so attractive, and yet he couldn't help it. Clearly Hux was planning on making the most of a rare night out in the city. Suddenly Ben's stomach dropped into his boots at the realisation that this wasn't for him. Hux was just a coworker, and a friend, nothing more. He found himself feeling jealous of whatever hypothetical woman the General might end up attracting.

"Kylo!?" Hux snappy his fingers in front of Ben's face. "You alreet lad?"

Blinking rapidly Ben focused on the man in front of him. "Jesus. Sorry. I just... Sorry!" He stammered. "I was expecting, well, ummmm..."

"Oh, I'm so sorry your highness, were you expecting some lowly commoner with no concept of how one should be attired for an evening in the city?" Hux said, with a sneering curl of his lip and perfect Received Pronunciation accent.

"Your accent..."

"Rather good, don't cha think?"

"Don't do that, that's just really disturbing."

"Fuck you, Kylo."

"Sorry, I didn't mean it like that, just..." Ben paused, shoving both hands back through his curls. "Just you sound better, as yourself, you know? You sounded like the blokes I went to sch... The blokes my mum cleaned for and it... It didn't sound right. I'm sorry."

"It's alreet," Hux muttered, staring off to one side of Kylo's left ear.

"I'm sorry."

"Fuck it." Hux said quietly, squaring his shoulders. As he raised his chin Ben saw shutters come down behind Hux' eyes that he hadn't even realised had been raised. "Anyway, are we going in the pub or did you just need to look at it?"

"I got tickets." Ben said searching his pockets and finally pulling out two crumpled slips of paper.

"For what?"

"Ummm... Heaven 17. I don't know it you like..."

"I bought (We Don't Need This) Fascist Groove Thang on vinyl back in '81. Of course I like them. They're local and they're on our side lad. When do t'doors open?"

"Not for another hour."

"Let's get a few pints in then."

 

* * *

 

 _You've got to make me an offer_  
_That cannot be ignored_  
_So let's head for home now_  
_Everything I have is yours_  
_Step by step and day by day_  
_Every second counts I can't BREAK AWAY_

"Bloody hell Hux! You're really drunk."

"Aye."

"And you've got a really good singing voice."

"Aye. So are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Gonna make me an offer I can't refuse? Hmmm, lovely Kylo?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"Cos you're really fucking drunk, and we're walking eight miles home in the snow cos you had to talk to Martyn Ware for ten more minutes so we missed our bus. So yeah, forgive me if I think your judgement is impaired. I mean... He's only the keyboard player."

"Fuck you Kylo."

"Not tonight General."

 

* * *

 

Hux woke up on the threadbare hall carpet under his greatcoat, his white jacket carefully hung up by the door and his shoes neatly lined up against the wall.

Well, that was at least a better result than most of his nights out- he'd not woken up in some stranger’s bed, or scrunched up on the floor of the outhouse like he used to when his mum was still alive. Slowly he dragged himself up off the floor and staggered into the living room to build a fresh fire.

It wasn't until the evening that it occurred to him to wonder why he'd used the hated front door.

 

* * *

 

**Grimley, South Yorkshire, 6th March 1984**

" General! GENERAL?! Have ya seen this? Cortonwood's under threat! The bastards are gonna close it!!"

"What? What seams no where near exhausted! What the fuck are the Board playing at?!"

"They're going on strike! Like the lads up at Silverwood and Manvers! General, do you think we..."

"Shut up lad. Not here."

 

* * *

 

[Art by the wonderful [SinningSquire](http://sinningsquire.tumblr.com) on Tumblr]

"I don't understand." Ben said quietly as they ate their chips, sitting side by side on the wall. Although they still had many of their evenings in the pub, Hux had been increasingly distant since their night in Sheffield, claiming to be working with the other union representatives as unrest grew at the talk of closures, both rumoured and actual. Although he could see the increasing tension, Ben did have to wonder if the absences were a result of embarrassment over their night in Sheffield. They'd both been drunk, and Ben had done his best to be a gentleman, but when they'd stood on Hux' doorstep in the light of a snowy sunrise temptation had been too much. If the milk van hadn't chosen that moment to rattle passed the end of the street Ben was sure they would have done more that kissed. Maybe Hux remembered that and was unsettled by it.

Hux frowned at Ben's question. "What's not to understand lad? It's a fucking strike!"

"But... If they go on strike then they don't get paid, yeah? So how do they feed their families?"

Hux chewed and waved the wooden chip shop fork to signal that he had a reply, too discriminating to eat with his hands as Kylo did. "Any which way that they can." He said when he finally swallowed.

"But surely it'd be better to keep getting paid..."

"Better for who?" Hux snapped, levelling a glare at the younger man. "If people keep working and let t'Board shut t'collieries without a fight- where will they work then? These towns were built for t'pits, there's nowt else here. If we go then t'steel mill'll have to import coking coal for t'blaster furnaces. Which'll make them costly and unviable too. Fat cats in Westminster get their way and we end up with nothing. No jobs, worthless homes, communities scattered and perfectly good coal just left in t'ground for no reason. It might take weeks or months but if we can keep even half our capacity and half our men in jobs then it'll be worth it."

 

* * *

 

**BBC NEWS AT TEN 12th March 1984**

_Miners strike over threatened pit closures_

"Tens of thousands of Britain's miners have stopped work in what looks like becoming a long battle against job losses.

"More than half the country's 187,000 mineworkers are now on strike. Miners in Yorkshire and Kent were the first to down tools this morning - by tonight they had been joined by colleagues in Scotland and South Wales.

"The trouble began over an announcement by Chairman of the Coal Board Han Solo six days ago that 20 uneconomic pits would have to close, putting 20,000 miners out of work.

"Miners at Cortonwood colliery in Yorkshire - the first earmarked for closure - walked out at midnight on 5 March in protest at the plans.

"National Union of Mineworkers president Arthur Snoke is calling on members across the country to join the action. He is relying on flying pickets to drum up support."

 

* * *

 

"At this very moment in a world of privilege far from here, Leia Organa lies to the country while secretly supporting the systematic destruction of our livelihoods. This fierce industrial machine which you have built, upon which we stand, will come to a halt until such a time that the future of mining in Britain is assured. All work crews will stand down effective immediately and Westminster can remember this as the last day that the people of Britain will permit ourselves to be trampled upon!"

 

* * *

 

**Grimley, South Yorkshire, 22nd June 1984**

"Don't let them through! No scabs here! This pit is shut and it'll stay shut." Hux shouted, as he directed the picket lines. He should have looked tiny in just his shirtsleeves but Ben thought he glowed. He lived up to his nickname, cool and calculating under pressure but able to whip the others into a frenzy when it needed. "Block the lorries! Don't let them through! Watch the wheels! A lad died at Ferry Bridge last week, tha dun't want to join him!"

"Can you hear horses?" Kylo asked, at an advantage with his height but also an easy target for batons and missiles. So far he'd done little more than snatch the batons from the hands of untrained police. He wasn't supposed to be drawing attention to himself, his _other_ employer had insisted, but it was nigh on impossible given his size.

"What?"

"Like hooves..."

"Oh fuck, they're bringing in mounted police!" Someone said, too loudly, triggering the picket line to shift in uneasy panic.

"Anyone wi' kids get to the back!" Hux shouted, drowning out the babble of frightened men. Like well trained soldiers every eye turned towards him, Ben had seen worse responses in the Army, it was impressive. He shifted towards the front of the picket as Hux bodily dragged one of the men backwards. "Don't bloody question me, lad! I ain't never steered you wrong. No one wants to be kicked to death by a bloody horse, but none of us wants to have to explain it to your little 'uns. Or your wife."

Absently Ben nodded as he craned his neck for a better view, the man did have a terrifying wife.

He shifted his head, trying to gauge how many horses the police might be bringing based on the sound. He was good with horses, had grown up with them, then ridden for the school but horses trained for dressage and polo weren't the same temperament as police horses. Neither were military ones really, mostly used for parades these days rather than controlling football fans and rioters. Generally the horses would be stoic, it was the way the crowd reacted that would be the problem, too much pushing or thrown objects and someone could be trampled.

Unconsciously Ben had placed himself in front of Hux, standing firm between him and the approaching horses.

"Don't engage wi t'police! Hold the line but dun't swing for 'em! No missiles! It'll just make it worse!" Hux said, as the opposing forces crested the hill and headed towards them, batons in hand but not yet raised. The picket line shifted, nervous muttering progressing through the crowd in a wave. Everyone had heard what had happened at the Battle of Orgreave, just four days earlier. The new riot control tactics, the dogs, the stone throwing, the charges and the rout.

No matter how many times he tried to replay the events that followed, or how long he spent looking at the photographs, Kylo could never be entirely sure what exactly had happened.

The horses approached, the men surged, he heard the name his mother hadn't given him, and then his world consisted of nothing but the dirt on the ground and the fire of pain consuming the right side of his face.

Gentle hands turned him over as the shouting increased. He caught a glimpse of delicate blood covered fingers and terrified turquoise eyes before unconsciousness took him.

 

* * *

 

**Ottery St Mary, Devon, 23rd June 1984**

Han's attention was pulled from the sports pages at the back of the newspaper by the clatter of porcelain shattering against the table top and his wife's horrified gasp. Peering around the paper barrier he saw Leia gripping the back of her chair for balance, the other hand raised to her mouth. She was staring at the front page.

Keeping one finger between the pages to save his place Han shut the newspaper and turned it towards himself. There, above the fold, was the black-and-white image of a man falling beneath the hooves of a rearing horse, blood pouring from a gash cutting diagonally across his face. Behind him a smaller man with lighter hair seemed to be yelling and trying to catch his injured comrade. In the foreground a broken and jagged half brick tumbled to the ground, one edge wet with blood. The horse had a jagged cut in its side. The brick could have hit either of them.

Despite the long curling hair, filthy clothes and copious amounts of blood, the injured man was still recognisable as their son.

"Fourteen Injured in Grimley Clashes" read the headline.

Realising that Leia had moved to his side he placed the paper on to the tablecloth, smoothing it so they could both read the tiny print. The men in the main image were not named, nor the thirty two men who had been arrested afterwards.

"I know he was angry with us," Leia began, concerned at seeing her son injured without context or the knowledge that someone she trusted was with him to set him straight. "But why would Ben get involved in the miners strike of all things?"

Han shrugged, beginning to plan the various phone calls he'd need to make to deal with this mess.

"What do we do?" She was pacing now as she spoke. "Should we contact the hospitals there? Send someone to get him? _What if someone recognises him from the photograph? What will people say? What do I say if it comes up in the Commons?_ "

"Don't worry princess, I'll fix this." He said, standing and pressing a kiss to her forehead before he set off towards his study.

 

* * *

 

**Sheffield, South Yorkshire, 24th June 1984**

"How ya doin' Kylo our lad?"

Blinked slightly Kylo groaned, realising he couldn't see through his right eye. Instinctively his hand flew to his face as he struggled to sit up, but firm, surprisingly strong fingers caught him by the wrist.

"No, tha dun't want to touch that."

"Hux? Where am I?"

"Dun't tha know?" Hux sounded concerned as he helped the injured man to sit up against the stiff hospital pillows. "The nurses said you were awake yesterday..."

Kylo frowned again, distracted by the feeling of his eyelashes against the inside of the bandages. He did remember women in blue dresses and aprons leaning over him through the haze of some kind of drug. "I guess I was, I don't really remember anything after the picket though."

As he watched, the redhead set his face into a serious but emotionless mask, the panicked concern retreating behind a layer of professionalism. "They're saying- t'police are- that you were hit by an half brick chucked by one of our lads. How sommat thrown from behind ya could hit ya in t'face I dun't know. In t'photos it looks more like an horse is kicking ya, but t'doctors said you'd be dead if that were t'case. There's been a lot o' arrests, I dunno if they'll try to pin this on someone as well, I doubt they can prove who threw it. I'm gonna have to spend next few days tryin to find them all legal advice, but I wanted to see how you were doin' first."

"Did they tell you what’s actually under here?" Ben asked, gesturing with one shaking hand towards his face. "If they told me I don't remember."

"It's bad lad, but it could've been a lot worse," Hux said quietly, looking down the ward towards the open window where a gentle breeze brought in the smell of summer flowers and the dust of the steel mills. He was unconsciously kneading his left shoulder under the greatcoat he'd inexplicably worn despite the hot weather. "It'll scar cos there's skin missing down t'middle. I thought you'd lost the eye when I first got a look at ya. But they've said it'll be ok if tha dun't get an infection. You've a gash from eyebrow to jaw that they've sewn up best they can. Broken nose, fractured cheekbone, a couple of chipped teeth- they can't do owt about that for now. We'll have to find a dentist for ya once you're healed, an' a way to pay for it. They were worried you had concussion so I think they're gonna keep you in for a few days, make sure it all heals properly."

The man in the hospital bed rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. He'd never cared about his face. His features were too big and uneven to be attractive so he'd focused all of his energy on his muscles and his strength. Now he found he was self-conscious at the realisation that he actually was concerned about his looks now that they were ruined.

"Look, lad, I was thinking. Being on strike is hard on all of us and you shun't be having to pay for that room when you're not using it cos you're in here. And I don't think you should be on your own for a while, what wi' a healing head injury." Hux was still staring at the window rather than looking at Kylo. "I've got a spare room at my place, since me mum died, and I were wondering if you wanted to stop wi' me for a while. I could use some help wi' rent but I'm sure it'll be less than what you're paying that woman. I can cook like too if tha dun't have the skills."

"I'd like that," Kylo said, a little too quickly, blushing at his eagerness and hoping the other man wouldn't notice. He still wasn't looking at him, though his lips were twisting against each other like they were resisting a smile. Wanting to appear useful and give him a reason to keep him around Ben continued, "I can cook, mostly breakfast foods but I can fry anything! And, well, I got put on a lot of cleaning details in... at my last job... for answering back, so if owt ever needs scrubbing I'm your man."

"Now that dun't surprise me in the slightest," Hux said finally looking at him with a smile in his eyes if not on lips. "I've got to go now, but I'll talk to Ms Kanata for you, get your stuff moved into my place. I'll be back in a day or two to check on you, but if you need me ring t'Red Lion and leave a message wi' them- I dun't have a phone."

In a swirl of greatcoat he was gone. Ben watched Hux through the internal windows of the ward as he paused to speak to a pair of smiling nurses who touched his left arm, treating him to unprofessional hugs and kisses before they finally let him leave.

He felt a little guilty at getting his dearest wish in the world- to spend more time with Hux- through what was essentially a deception. He wasn't poor. Whilst he was technically on strike from the pit like the rest of them he was still doing his other job and being paid more in a month that he suspected Hux received in a year. Plus he still had access to his trust fund if anything urgent came up. Pushing his tongue along his teeth, looking for the chips, he felt his mouth fill with blood as the jagged edges sliced into his tongue. He could feel stitches inside his cheek too, rough and irritating. The teeth certainly counted as something urgent.

Idly he wondered if it was too late to hire a plastic surgeon as well. But he knew that would be a little too conspicuous. He didn't want Hux to be repulsed by him- not that he really believed he had a chance, his thoughts tinged with jealousy at the kisses the nurses had received- but at the same time he wasn't sure Hux could accept the real Ben Solo either. Perhaps one day a rugged scar would take the edge off finding out that a Viscount had been living in his house.

 

* * *

 

"Mr Solo it is my understanding that your son is fine... Yes, he is receiving what passes for adequate medical treatment up there... His healing is satisfactory... A representative has been to assess him, additional dental care has been arranged and he is eager to return to his task. No, we do not feel that there is any reason to recall him at this time... There has been no indication that he has been recognised... If it will calm your wife I can arrange for a mention in one of the society columns, place him doing charity work somewhere far for Yorkshire? Yes, Sir. Very good sir. Goodbye... Cretin. You know, Supreme Leader, I do wonder how men that dense ever reach positions of power. Somedays I wonder how they dress themselves."

 

* * *

 

**Grimley, South Yorkshire, July 1984**

"Alright then lad," Hux said, holding the door open with one hand whilst he leant back against the wall to let Kylo pass. "This'll be thy room. I've cleared out that dresser for ya but not the wardrobe, it's got a lot of me parents stuff in it that I haven't gone through yet. It didn't seem like you had a lot of stuff at Ms Kanata's place so I hope it's enough space."

Kylo stood in the middle of the room, looking at the tired floral wallpaper and the inexpertly dusted furniture. His parents would go mad to see him in a house like this, though after the last place it was a vast improvement. The mattress was on a bed frame, the curtains closed all the way, it smelled unused but not damp. A paradise really.

"It's great, thanks Hux," Kylo said at last, "isn't this the master bedroom though? Shouldn't you have this one?"

He was wandering around the space inspecting the various objects- the brass instrument cases resting beside the wardrobe, the shelf full of ancient photo albums, a huge roll of fabric propped against one wall.

"Nah I've slept in the other room my entire life. I've mostly used this one for storage..."

There was a thump and the sound of falling silk.

"What the hell, Hux?" Kylo's voice came, muffled, from the region of the floor.

Leaning over the bed Hux dragged the mass of heavily embroidered silk off his fallen colleague, though he seemed far more preoccupied with checking the condition of the object that the man. Carefully touching his still healing face Ben awkwardly managed to sit up.

The object was a banner, now unfurled and hanging huge across the front of the wardrobe. Kylo had seen it at the colliery during some of the strikes but never up close. For a mining Union banner it was relatively simplistic- a central colliery winding wheel enclosed in a hexagon beneath the slogan "National Union of Mineworkers - Grimley Colliery - With Our Fierce Machine Darkness Becomes Light".

Pulling himself up from the floor Kylo moved closer, squinting as he realised the hexagon was actually embroidered with words.

"Are... Are those quotes from Marx?"

Aye, me mum made it." Hux said, carefully smoothing the fabric before he began the task of rolling the whole thing back up. "I was gonna take it up to the Durham Miners Gala with some of the lads from t'pit, but then you were in hospital and I din't want to risk leav... Anyway they cancelled it since no one can afford the train fare anyway."

Flushed pink across the cheekbones and ears Hux tried not to look at Kylo as he propped the tightly rolled fabric back into place against the wall, blocking it in with a heavy suitcase this time, and headed out of the room.

"I'm gonna put dinner on, how hungry are ya?"

Slightly stunned, Ben muttered something vague in reply. Had Hux genuinely admitted to changing his plans just because he was concerned about Kylo?

 

* * *

 

Glancing out of the kitchen window while he prepared for the first tea of the morning, Hux almost dropped the kettle into the sink. Kylo was exercising in the yard, dressed only in a pair of brightly coloured Hawaiian print shorts. Right now he was hanging from the metal bar that ran between the property's dividing wall and the outhouse. He was doing some complicated form of pull up.

Carefully Hux placed the kettle on the countertop and gripped the edge of the sink. He'd known the man was excessively toned ever since he'd walked in on him showing off for Phasma. He'd done his best not to look after that and tried to block the memory of rippling shoulder muscles from his thoughts. But they often resurfaced during long lonely nights, taking centre stage in rambling absurd fantasies that usually involved him biting them as he worked his way deeper into Kylo's tight heat, or else him scratching deep grooves into hard flesh as Kylo loomed over him, splitting him in two with a member he assumed was sized to match his hands. Hux felt intensely guilty for fantasising about a colleague in such a way, especially one who'd only ever shown an interest in Phasma, but he couldn't help it.

He told himself that bringing Kylo into his home was an act of charity, a needed favour for a young man hit hard by the actions of politicians and their enforcers. If it meant that he got to watch him working on that wonderful physique, well, perhaps that was just the reward for a good deed.

Shifting slightly Hux brushed the edge of the sink, suddenly becoming aware of the erection straining against the front of his pyjama bottoms. There was already a wet stain there where precum had leaked onto the fabric. He really needed to get laid. It had been well over a year since his last outing to Manchester and it'd be a long time before he could afford another if this strike dragged on.

Outside Kylo was glistening with sweat in the early morning sunlight, his massive arm muscles working as he switched from two armed pull-ups to just one. The previously unseen chest was even broader than Hux had imagined, the abs beneath eight beautifully delineated slabs of muscle sparkling as he moved so gracefully.

Biting his lip, Hux decided that the ancient lace curtains across the window were sufficient camouflage and unceremoniously shoved his right hand down the front of his pyjamas. It was embarrassing how close he was from only a few minutes of silent observation, his cock hot and heavy in his grip, the head drooling copious amounts of fluid to ease the path of his frantic hand.

He was almost at his release, teeth bared and breath hissing at he fought to be quiet, when Kylo abruptly stopped his movements. Hux paused, fist tightening as he panicked, unsure if the other man intended to come back inside and whether he could get up the stairs before he did. Instead Kylo heaved upwards and flipped over the bar, now gripping it in a headstand that highlighted the beautiful muscles of his back as he dipped. Groaning Hux dragged the front of his pyjamas down, the elastic pressing under his tight aching balls, and cupped the head of his cock with his left hand. The half-felt sensation there helped him to imagine that he was thrusting against Kylo's tight frame rather that his own hand and after a few more brutal pumps he was cumming, hissing the other man's name as he caught the thick white strands in his fist.

After a moment or two spent leaning against the sink panting as he shook with the aftershocks, Hux washed his hands, righted his clothes, and got back on with making the tea. If he was quick he could take a mug out to Kylo and get a better look at those muscles.

 

* * *

 

"Do you wanna go out?" Kylo said to the house in general. There were only four rooms in the whole building, and he hadn't heard Hux leave, so the man was sure to hear him wherever he was hiding.

It was a rare day with no strike actions planned and Kylo was hoping to spend some more time with Hux. The man had barred him from picketing until his face healed but even now, two months on, he wouldn't let him return. It was especially frustrating in the face of increasing pressure from his employers. He'd learned so little about the union men, certainly nothing to prove the theory of planned civil unrest. The only law breakers so far had been angry men reacting to the immediate situation. Of course he didn't want to leave but it felt like being paid to do nothing. "Hux! I said, do you wanna go..."

"It's too hot to do owt." Hux muttered from his place on the lounge carpet. The curtains were drawn to keep out the hot August sun so Ben hadn't noticed the redhead laying with his feet on the cold hearthstone.

Stepping around the couch he felt his breath catch in his throat. Hux was stretched out on the rug wearing nothing but a pair of shorts.

It was an unexpected sight to say the least. The house had no indoor bathroom, making bathing in an old fashioned tin tub in the lounge a necessity. But despite living together for over a month Kylo had yet to see further than the slim man's wrists and ankles. Until now.

Stretched out on the rug, Hux had his right hand under his head and the left stretched out to the side, the scars around his shoulder faded and pink against his too pale, freckled skin. He was surprisingly wiry despite his slim frame, a slight definition of muscles across his chest and limbs, though his belly was soft beneath the trail of red hair. His left arm was a little less toned than the right, probably due to its limited range of motion.

Part of Kylo's mind- the bodybuilder element that tracked his intake and exercise routine with the unconscious ease of years of repetition- wondered what he could make of Hux with enough time in the gym. The rest of him just wondered what his skin might taste like and whether his own hands were large enough to wrap all the way around that slim waist.

"Come on, Hux," he said, shaking his head to dispel the obscene thoughts suddenly running rampant through his mind. "It's a nice day..."

"It's hotter than t'surface of the fucking sun, is what it is," Hux grumbled, his arm shifting from beneath his head to over his eyes.

"It's a nice day, you look like some sun on your skin would do you good..."

"Oh aye, yeah great idea, then my shoulders can match my hair!"

"Shut up, ya mardy beggar!" Kylo said, a tinge of a Yorkshire accent working through his voice, "I'll buy you a bloody ice cream if you come to t'park with me. I'm tired o' going on my own and being ogled at all the time."

Glancing down he saw that Hux was giving him an odd look, half sitting up with his weight on his elbows. "What, you want an audience to being ogled at? Or am I so pale the glare of t'sun off me skin will blind all onlookers?"

"No." Kylo said petulantly, picking at the wallpaper peeling by the doorframe so he didn't have to meet his eye. "It's just that if I had someone to talk to then I might not notice and my face wouldn't bother me so much."

"Fine." Hux rolled awkwardly to his feet, rubbing his shoulder and rotating the joint. "But you're buying me two ice creams cos it's too bloody hot and I reckon the weather's gonna turn so we might not get another chance."

 

* * *

 

The walk in the park had been a good idea for the most part. Although people had still stared at Kylo's muscular frame and obvious scar, many of them knew Hux as t'General or as his father's son. It meant stopping every few yards to discuss the strike- stalled, the past- painful, the weather- stifling, the economy- doomed, but it was more comfortable than the wary looks Ben usually received. He'd never really been used to people looking at him so blatantly, even at the Academy people had some level of good manners if not actual tact.

But any time a new person mentioned or looked too closely at Kylo's face Hux took pains to explain that his injury was received in the course of the strike and on behalf of the miners. Ben noticed that people often glanced at Hux' own shoulder when he said this, which he always reacted to by touching the scar as if he were using their pity to gain Kylo more sympathy and respect in turn. Each time it happened the younger man felt his heart lighten at the thought of the kind gesture, such that he didn't even complain when Hux genuinely ordered two ice creams from the van parked on one of the paths.

They'd found a spot to relax near the bandstand, stretching out on the grass. Kylo sat in the sun whilst Hux chose to stay under the shade of a tree. Somehow they ended up sitting so their ankles were intertwined. The small points of contact made Kylo's heart race far more than they should have, the effect not helped by the sight of Hux alternately licking at two ice lollies. Both were ridiculous, brightly coloured confections- one in the shape of a rocket, the other a strange mass of swirling colours not found in nature. Kylo had chosen a more traditional cone, a fact he was grateful for when he repeatedly found himself distracted from his food by the movements of Hux' tongue.

Of course the redhead's predictions about both his skin and the weather were proved right. By the time they ran home in the torrential rainstorm his shoulders were burned a brilliant red. Arriving back at the house Hux had immediately declared that he needed a cold bath to sooth his skin and had stripped out of his wet clothes right there in the living room. Kylo hadn't known what to do. Of course he'd looked, though fortunately Hux hadn't noticed the glance. Nor had he noticed the blush and the look of surprise when Ben realised that the neatly trimmed ginger hair didn't hide the fact that the other man was decidedly not in proportion to the rest of his skinny frame.

Flustered beyond rational thought Kylo had left the house, declaring that he needed to make some phone calls and then he'd fetch them both dinner from the chip shop.

He had absolutely intended to call his employers to advise them of the lack of updates on the strike situation. Instead he found himself huddled in the shabby red phone box, one cheek pressed against the cool glass whilst the roar of the thunder drowned out his moans as he worked his cock inside his soaking wet shorts. His mind replayed the sight of Hux' dexterous tongue, stained blue with with the iced treats, trying to imagine Hux giving his member the same determined attention. When he remember the moment the man had tipped his head back and sucked one of the half finished lollies from its stick in a single gesture he came with a groan, using pages he'd torn from the phonebook to clean himself up. He really had to wonder what the other Knights of REN might think if they saw him now.

The thunderstorm had caused a power cut, which in turn lead To a longer queue in the chip shop that usual. Which was a shame. If Kylo had returned home more quickly he likely would have found Hux engaged in much the same activity in the tin tub as Kylo had just indulged in in the phone box. As it was, he came home to a grumpy redhead dressed in a bathrobe and pyjama bottoms, trying to mop up spilled bath water by candlelight.

 

* * *

 

"We've not been out in ages," Kylo said, turning his pint slowly on its beer mat, shoving the condensation down the glass.

"What are you on about?" Hux said, as he raised an eyebrow, and looked around the Red Lion's tap room with exaggerated curiosity. "We're out right now! We're literally sitting in a pub at this very moment."

"I mean _out_ out. Sheffield. A club or something."

"Oh right." Hux said flatly, sipping his drink and looking glum. "Finally feel like you're missing out on all t'dolly birds then?"

"What? No, I mean, I know someone who can get us in to see Gary Numan on Saturday, for free, like."

"Who the fuck do you know other than me?"

"I know people."

"Yeah, right."

 

* * *

 

They'd become separated almost as soon as they'd entered the venue. Kylo's greater height and bulk meant that Hux could keep an eye on him, but neither of them could quite make their way back to the other through the crowd.

This concert was not the fun they'd experienced on their previous evening out in the city. The venue was larger, the beer far too expensive, and the fans were much more excitable. The women in particular were apparently incapable of recognise a gay man when they saw one and Hux spent a miserable evening fending off the attentions of a variety of drunken girls with wandering hands. Across the dance floor he kept catching glimpses of Kylo with a blond woman draped around his neck, whispering sweet nothings in his ear no doubt. Hux hoped the other man would at least have the decency not to bring her home with them, he wasn't sure he could cope with listening to his gorgeous best friend fucking some woman instead of him. Especially since it would be in his parents bed. That thought was like a bucket ice water over his already miserable mood. He spent the rest of the evening ignoring the various women pawing at him and focused all his energy on trying to kill the blonde with his mind.

Kylo was having a terrible evening. He'd really hoped for a repeat of their previous night out, with less of Hux being too drunk to know what he was saying and more of Hux snogging him on the doorstep, possibly followed by something more. Instead the woman who'd got him the tickets, the older sister of Tanma REN, had assumed that the evening was a date and now he couldn't seem to extract himself from her tenacious grip. Hux was all the way on the other side of the dancefloor, receiving the attentions of various gorgeous girls. Kylo hoped he wouldn't bring any of them back to the house. Not now that he'd finally been seeing some hope for them as a couple. Ben cherished the rare moments when the redhead properly relaxed and he was livid that he was missing the opportunity to see more of that now.

 

* * *

 

"Just get in the taxi."

"Aww, come on _Kyyyyle_ , come home with me, you know you want toooo...."

"Look, mate," Kylo said leaning down towards the taxi driver and discreetly handing him some money. "The lady's drunk, get her home and you can keep the rest as a tip."

"Turning down a bird that's begging for it? What are you, a fucking po..." The man started to say in a vicious tone before he actually looked at the note in his hand. "This is a fiver!"

"What I am, is a gentleman."

"Thanks very much, sir!" The driver said, pulling away from the taxi rank and into the flow of traffic as Kylo gave him the finger.

"Prick."

Looking around he tried to spot Hux amongst the post concert crowd. Failing to spot the redhead after a few minutes he sighed and began the long walk home on his own. Maybe he'd gotten a taxi himself, or gone home with one of those girls. Kylo would have to have a word with his fellow REN about his sister's behaviour, at least he would if he ever wanted to go out around town in peace again.

He was walking quickly in an effort to keep warm despite the chilly night air, lacking the immunity to the weather that a decent alcoholic buzz might have provided. Depressed at the failure of the evening he also kept his eyes on the ground, sure that the paths along the canal would be deserted at this time of night.

Passing under the shadow of a bridge he found himself colliding heavily with another figure that instantly wrapped its cold fingers around his throat.

"Fuck off!" Not the most eloquent thing he'd ever said in response to being attacked but still...

"Kylo?!"

"Hux? Let go please."

With a heavy sigh his throat was released.

"You don't make any noise when you walk, do ya know that?" Hux said peevishly. "Bloody walked into me from nowhere what was I supposed to think. Where's that lass you were with?"

"In a taxi with a bigot." Kylo muttered, straightening his jacket and starting to walk again. After a moment Hux drew level. "Where are the ones you were with?"

"I dunno, I told 'em all to go back stage."

 

* * *

 

The rest of the walk home had been conducted in an uncomfortable silence, Ben cursing his terrible luck for ruining the evening, Hux lost in his own thoughts.

As soon as they got in the door the redhead declared his intention to go straight to bed and vanished. Kylo had a few beers, sitting at the lonely kitchen table, hoping the other man would return but too shy to go and fetch him. Finally he stumbled up the stairs and managed to make his way into bed. He was too tired to change into anything else and chose to sleep nude. But sleep didn't come.

He couldn't stop thinking about the sensation of Hux' hand on his throat. Until now he hadn't realised that they'd never really touched. He'd thought about it, almost constantly over the last few months, but beyond that one drunken kiss they hadn't really had any contact beyond sitting next to one another in the pub or whilst they ate.

Facedown on the bed he gently he traced his fingertips along his throat, trying to recreate the pattern of pressure with his far larger hand. Arching his back slightly he freed up enough space for his fingers to find the correct positions. The shift of his body dragged his cock across the sheets, wringing a low groan from his throat.

In the hallway Hux' door clicked open and Kylo froze, tracking the other man's footsteps as he descended the stairs. When he heard the back door open he relaxed again, slowly rutting his hips against the mattress, building an almost satisfying friction as he trailed his hand down across his chest. Biting his lip to try to keep himself quiet he ran his fingers across his nipples, gently twisting whilst his free hand retrieved his lubricant from the bedside table.

He had only meant to put a little on his hand when he lifted his hips, intending to replace the dry friction of the sheet. Instead he fumbled it, spilling a small pool onto the sheets. As he mopped at it with his fingers he realised the possibilities it presented.

Whilst one slick fist worked over his cock he reached the other hand back, brushing his fingertips around his hole, whimpering slightly as he pressed inwards, the sound covering the footsteps returning up the staircase.

Hux paused outside the bedroom doors, hearing the soft rhythmic noises of the other's activities. Rolling his eyes he thought the younger man really would have been better off bringing the girl home rather than just wanking to the thought of her.

Shaking his head, and doing his best not to remember the noises Kylo was making, Hux went back to bed. Twenty minutes later he awoke with a start, achingly hard and wondering whether he was dreaming or whether he really had just heard the object his affections cum whilE gasping his name into the pillow. He sat awake for ten minutes listening to the house settle back into silence before he laid down again. He drifted off again, cock in hand, Kylo's voice echoing in his ears.

 

* * *

 

"It's fucking freezing."

"Right, well observed there our lad, I hadn't bloody noticed!" Hux snapped from his place on the floor in front of the fireplace. The small glass door in the metal structure stood open, revealing the coal blackened interior, swept clear of ash and debris. He was wearing his greatcoat over his shoulders, the bulk of the garment added to by the multiple woollen layers he wore beneath it. Splinters were catching in the cuffs from the wood he was breaking up with his bare hands.

The last month or so had gone by in a stream of dispirited Union meeting and tense personal interactions. October had not being kind to them, the temperatures abruptly dropping to freezing and no one with the funds to afford fuel. November was turning out to be even worse.

Glancing into the kitchen Kylo saw that the cabinets were now free of doors. In the yard he could see the rest of the shattered wood, the ax resting in the middle of the pile. Hux had done a poor job of it, lacking the accuracy a two handed swing would have given him. Kylo felt guilty. He wished Hux had woken him and had him do the job. He wished he could break the terms of his employment and whisk Hux away to some fancy hotel with heating and room service and a warm soft bed. He wished he could just curl up in that coat with him.

"Shall I bring the rest of the wood in?" He asked, trying to ignore his wandering mind. It focused more and more on Hux now; drifting back time and again to slim fingers jealously guarding a glowing cigarette, plush lips on the rim of a tea cup, brilliant red hair peaking out of cuffs and collars and waistbands."You know, afore it gets dark, or rains?"

"If ya want," Hux said dejectedly.

It took five trips to bring the mass of splintering shards into the house. Each time Hux looked up at Kylo, lips parted as if to speak, but each time he turned his gaze back to the fireplace in silence.

Long shadows crept from the corners of the room when Kylo finally locked the back door and joined Hux on the floor in front of the fire, silently joining in the task of breaking up the wood.

"Normally..." Hux started in a voice that choked and stuttered so that he had to cough and start again. "Normally, when the weather's like this an' I can't afford to run the boiler I bring t'mattress and all t'blankets down here an' sleep in front o'fire. Cos it's easier an' cheaper to heat one room than two. But I don't want ya to feel like I'm being selfish or... unfair... to you."

"Can't I sleep down here too?" Kylo asked with a frown.

"I... I wasn't sure you'd want to lad, I don't want you to feel like..."

Something in Kylo snapped then, watching this achingly thin man breaking up the fabric of his home just to keep warm, blood staining his fingers from a hundred infinitesimal cuts, like the pain that seeped from his soul where life had been so cruel as to only take from him and leave him with nothing but the men he fought to protect. Surging forward Kylo caught Hux' face in his hands, gently forcing the turquoise eyes to look at him.

"I want to..." He began, licking his lips, "I can't... I can't even begin to tell you everything that I want Hux, but there's nothing I want more right now than to curl up in a mass of blankets and body heat in front of an open fire with you."

Hux tried to look away, eyes tipped down towards the floor refusing to meet the unexpected soft hazel gaze. "Lad, you shouldn't even be here anymore. You showed willing, standing up and striking for us but you're not from round here. You could go anywhere, do anything, you've got your whole future ahead a ya."

"Sometimes, I feel the past and the future pressing so hard on either side that there's no room for the present at all." Kylo muttered under his breath.

"How the fuck do you know Brideshead Revisited?" Hux did look up then, mildly stunned to hear his long haired muscular lodger quoting his favourite work of literature at him. But it was too dark now to really see his face, all Hux could see was the glitter of the other man’s impossible eyes. It was like staring into a galaxy from outside. Vaguely he wondered if this was the view the gods had when they looked down on mankind.

"That dun't matter General, all I want to matter right now, is right now." He leaned forward, pressing forehead to forehead. "I want us to forget what we we were, where we come from, our work, our hypothetical futures. I want to be nothing more tonight that _your_ Kylo and for you to be _my_ Hux. Because pretending I don't want you more than life is killing me, and I don't want to feel that way any more."

There was silence, Hux breathing low and deep, Kylo not daring to breathe at all. After a moment that spanned lifetimes he saw golden eyelashes flutter closed, tiny points of brilliance in the dark like comet trails, and then plush lips were pressed gently to his own. Air rushed back into his lungs as he pressed forward once more, unable to resist the urge to lick his tongue forward and try to gain immediate access to the other’s mouth.

Rather than submitting to his ardent mood Hux laughed and gently pushed Kylo backwards.

"Easy now! You get carried away with yoursen now, and we're just gonna find ourselves on a freezing cold floor with no fire and nowt but floorboard beneath us." Hux said, running his fingers affectionately back through the larger man's thick curling locks. "I'm too old for that."

"You're 26."

"Aye, too old not to be romanced properly," he said with a twist of his lips that was a smirk bordering on a smile. "I'm gonna get this fire going. You're gonna bring t'mattress and all o' t'blankets down. Then I'm gonna go to t'chippy cos I might not be able to afford coal for t'fire or gas for t'cooker but I can still afford to put hot food in ya."

Kylo found himself laughing at the others pragmatism, and after stealing a few more kisses he agreed.

The next half an hour was filled with practical bustle and a growing tension between the two men that heated the room far better than the fledgling fire. Kylo felt like he was showing off when he carried the double mattress down with ease, though he swore he caught sight of Hux licking his lips in the light from the fire as he gathered up his wallet and keys. He was carrying down the second set of bedding when the door slammed shut behind the redhead. Throwing the blankets through the lounge door Kylo raced back upstairs, digging through his bags to find the two bottles of brandy he'd hidden in his room as well as the condoms he'd brought in a fit of boldness just before their first night out in Sheffield. The lubricant he fished out from under a pillow, biting his lip as he wondered what Hux would think at the sight an unopened box of condoms but the lubricant being half used.

Hurrying back downstairs Kylo shoved the couch back against the wall to serve as a headboard for the mattress before he arranged all the blankets and pillows into a nest on top. The brandy he placed beside the mattress but the rest he hid under the couch cushions, feeling suddenly shy.

As he moved around the house, closing curtains and pushing draft excluders against the doors to keep the heat in, he wondered if he should be waiting in their impromptu nest for Hux when he returned and if he should be wearing any clothing when he did so. Sadly he was so diverted by the thought that he was still standing in the kitchen contemplating his options when the other man unlocked the door.

"That's a serious face," Hux said around the mountain of paper wrapped chips in his arms, "havin' second thoughts?"

"No! No, the exact opposite really," Kylo said, moving to help the other man with his burden and press reassuring kisses to his lips. "Shall, shall we go through?" He asked, nervous tremors in his voice making him sound younger than his years.

He lead them into the lounge, pushing the door closed behind Hux, breathing deep in anticipation. He turned to find the smaller man standing unexpectedly close. Glittering in the firelight Hux' eyes looked icy blue and yet they conveyed a level of passion he'd never seen from the redhead before, even when he shouted his speeches at the picket lines. It was intoxicating and it was all for him.

Hux had put his food down on the hearthstone to keep warm. He gently took Kylo's food to do the same before he turned and crowded Kylo back against the door, cold hands slipped around his sides whilst he nipped kisses against the taller man's lips. Kylo was intensely aware that they were both wearing far too many layers.

As if reading his mind, Hux murmured against his lips, "if we're going to share body heat we should get out of these clothes. Leave the last layer on until we're done eating though, or we'll never actually eat." As he was speaking Hux had already dragged the first two knitted layers up Kylo's torso, slim fingers working to free the rest from the belt of his jeans.

Eagerly the larger man moved to help him, dragging everything but his undershirt up over his head just as Hux' cold hand dragged across the front of his boxers on its way to lowering his trousers. Kylo gasped at the sensation, surprised at both the touch and how long it had actually been since he'd last had another man's hands on him. Pulling his head free of his warm clothing Kylo looked down to meet the other man's eyes where he knelt before him. Instantly he blushed as the sight of Hux' upturned eyes caused a wet patch of precum to darken his boxers.

"It's been a while then?" Hux asked with a teasing but gentle twist of his lips and a raised eyebrow.

Reaching out clumsily Kylo tried to urge the other man back up by tangling his fingers into his hair. "It... It's been forever..."

Still kneeling Hux grinned up at him, finally, _finally_ smiling properly. It changed his whole face, the gaunt tight lipped creature weighed down by the world became something made of light, glowing from within as the firelight caught in his hair. Stroking his fingers up Kylo's leg he said, "yeah, I know the feeling..."

"No," Kylo gasped, grabbing the wandering hand as his hips twitched, "I mean... If you're going to fuck me... that I've never..."

"Kylo... Kyle," Hux said, voice suddenly full of concern and reassurance, "are you..."

"I've never gotten further than oral alright?!" He spat, cheeks red with embarrassment as he tipped his head back towards the ceiling. "I've watched and I've kinda... helped out I guess, but I've never done more than oral with anyone else and if you don't get up right now I'm going to cum right here and it'll all be ruined."

He jerked again as both of Hux' hands began to gently rub his thighs.

"Or, you could cum right here, take the edge off, eat these chips before they go completely cold and _then_ I can make you cum again."

"What?" He gasped as he looked down just in time to watch Hux lick a stripe up the front of his boxers following the straining line of his cock beneath the fabric. The wet patch grew as his cock twitched. Biting his lip he wound his fingers more securely into the red hair and watched with heavy lidded eyes as Hux gently pulled him free of his underwear.

Looking up through thick golden eyelashes Hux carefully lapped at the head of Kylo's cock, both hands still on his thighs so he had to chase it slightly as it bobbed. As he tipped his head a little to the side he closed his eyes and kissed his way down the shaft. When Kylo panted his name he grinned wickedly and suddenly enveloped half his length in one eager movement.

Surprised Kylo bucked his hips, his grip helping to push him deeper. Pausing for a moment to swirl his tongue around, Hux opened his eyes once more, meeting his gaze as his hands edged inwards. Once the larger man's breathing had settled Hux drew backwards slightly before pressing relentlessly forward until his nose was settled against dark curls and Kylo's cock nudged the back of his throat.

Above him the other man seemed to have lost the ability to speak, lightly thrusting his hips instead. Then one of Hux' hands pressed against the space behind Kylo's balls whilst the other gently pushed against them, his throat working around the head. Kylo hissed out an apology as he came so soon and after so little stimulation.

Rubbing his sides and trembling thighs with reassuring fingertips Hux eased away, swallowing and licking as he went. Finally he sat back on his heels and smiled softly up at Kylo.

"Dun't be sorry, that's what I meant to happen," he said as he pulled his own sweaters up over his head. "You'll last longer later on now, that's all that matters."

Stumbling slightly he stood and began unlacing his boots as Kylo kicked his way free of his trousers. Glancing down he realised the redhead was sporting quite an erection of his own.

Hux laughed as he followed his gaze. "Don't worry about me. Get in bed, eat something."

When the smaller man slipped in under the covers beside him Kylo sighed, properly relaxing fully for the first time in months as an arm snaked around his shoulders.

An hour passed in companionable silence, the food finished and then complemented by sips of the brandy. The arm over Kylo's shoulder shifted so that slim fingers could stroke through the ends of his long hair, occasionally brushing along his jaw until he finally took the hint. With a sigh soft lips met in a slow languid kiss that deepened only gradually, both men losing track of time as the fire crackled and the room warmed around them. Reaching out with his other hand Hux urged Kylo to straddle his lap, transferring his grip to the other man's neck to continue the kiss as the angle between them shifted.

It was the warm nudge of Hux' cock beneath him that eventually encouraged Kylo to break the kiss long enough to strip off his shirt. His fingers edged down the smaller man's sides to do the same for him but we're hindered by Hux' absorption with his abs. When he finally raised his arms enough for Kylo to pull him free he instantly went back to tracing the lines of his muscles with his fingertips. Behind him Kylo felt Hux draw his knees up. The reason became clear when he was pushed backwards to allow the redhead's tongue better access to follow the path his fingers had just taken.

Sighing contentedly Kylo relaxed back, carefully mapping the path of the scars over the other man's shoulders, and joining up the constellations of freckles. Working his way down Hux' arms he brought slim delicate hands up to his lips, kissing across the palms and sucking at each fingertip in turn. Every finger was accompanied by a groan and a strengthening thrust upwards from the man beneath him.

Hux caught his chin with his left hand as Kylo started work on his right index finger. "Suck both of 'em," he murmured, slipping the index and middle fingers completely into his mouth and pushing lightly at his tongue. "Get them as wet as you can."

Kylo's eyes slid shut and the blush began to stain his chest and cheeks again as he worked his tongue over and between the digits.

"Good," Hux sighed a few minutes later as he gently pressed on Kylo's chin easing his fingers free, strands of spit following for a moment then breaking when he abruptly opened his knees.

As Kylo fell back and rushed to pull himself free of his boxers he nodded towards the couch. "There's lube under the cushions if you..." He started, trailing off embarrassed as Hux fought to choose an expression between amusement and admiration.

Reaching back he retrieved the lubricant and the condoms, pulling two free and tearing the foil open with his teeth before putting them aside. Leaning forward he paused to press a kiss to the corner of Kylo's mouth while he placed the bottle on the floor close to the fire. Easing back down onto his heels he licked along the finely muscled abdomen, trying to distract a little from the path of his right hand. Still Kylo tensed at the first cold touch of spit soaked fingers against his entrance, earning himself a gentle bite along his ribs. With a sigh he tried to concentrate on relaxing, carding his fingers through Hux's hair to encourage him while he worked on deepening the bruise of the bite. Leaning into the caress Hux hummed slightly against his skin as one finger eased into his tight heat.

Hux shifted upwards, finger working deeper, while lips and tongue tracing a path up towards one pink puffy nipple, incongruously sweet and temptingly biteable on a such a toned body.

The change in depth had Kylo whimpering, his free hand pressed against his mouth.

"Kylo?" Hux asked, pausing the drag of teeth against flesh. "You okay?"

"More." Came the slightly strangled reply. "Please..."

"Pass me the lube then, if you're sure."

Kylo did as he was asked, biting his fist at the warm trickle of liquid and the slow gentle trace of a second finger around the ring of muscle.

"You can be loud if ya want," Hux said casually, passing the bottle back as he licked and nipped at the peak of flesh.

"Wha?"

"You're tryin' to be quiet, biting your hand. Hold over from your army days? Can't make a sound or Sarge'll find you? Well that dun't matter here, both neighbours are deaf as posts." He bit down, hard, winning a groan from the larger man. Kylo tightened his grip on his hair but urged his head back towards his chest rather than away. "And I really would like you to be loud." Hux purred, the second finger easing in as he closed his teeth again.

"Fuck!" Kylo gasped, bucking down onto the intruding fingers, urging them deeper. With a grin Hux rested his chin on Kylo's chest, watching his reactions closely as he curled his fingers against his prostate. "Oh god, Hux, please, more..."

Leaning on his hip with his left arm, the redhead pinned him instead, lazily fucking his two fingers deeper and scissoring gently to stretch him wider.

"Wait, wait, wait." He soothed, pressing feather light kisses along Kylo's shoulders and neck. "We have all the time in the world. Just enjoy it."

Tipping his head back Kylo focused on the dance of the flames in the fire, willing his body to relax and feeling his thighs spread wider. The weight shifted from his hip as Hux lifted slightly, the rustle of fabric and foil adding to the gentle crackle of burning wood and the slick sounds of his fingers.

Finally a third finger slipped in alongside the others, wringing a sigh from the younger man that turned into a groan as Hux carefully smoothed a condom down over his length. Arching his back Kylo hummed a questioning noise, too blissed out to speak.

Reaching up for the lube again Hux pressed a kiss to Kylo's temple. "We've no hot water to wash the sheets," he explained apologetically, "and I rather we both stayed safe, yeah?"

Smiling softly Kylo nodded, wrapping his arms around the other man's shoulders, pulling him close to kiss his lips for the first time in what felt like hours.

"Ready?" Hux whispered, breaking the kiss for just a second before returning to licking along lips and teeth and palate. Kylo nodded, planting his feet more securely as he arched his hips up off the bed. The shift in sensation as Hux fingers slipped free to be replaced by the slick, slightly cold head of his cock had Kylo gasping again, one heel coming up to push against the redhead's backside, urging him forward.

Rubbing soothing circles along Kylo's hipbones Hux thrust slow and shallow, pausing when the head of his cock fully breached the ring of muscle. Breathing deeply at the almost unbearably tight sensation he leaned forward to murmur praise and press kisses along the line of one thick bicep. After a few breathes Kylo began to push down, edging Hux a little deeper with each movement.

"Please, Hux?"

Shushing him Hux reached forward to grip at those wide muscular shoulders, thumbs stroking gently at his neck as he used the leverage to seat himself fully in one long slow motion. Arching his back again Kylo hissed his name, fingers twisting into the sheets at his sides.

"Fucking hell Kylo, you're gorgeous. Are you okay?" Hux sighed, holding himself still as he fought to calm down. It really had been too long.

"If you don't move soon I think I shall die." Kylo said, a little strained. "Please..." A second foot joined the first, hooking together at the small of Hux' back.

Smiling slightly the redhead dragged his fingernails up the other man's thighs, rolling his hips in a deep slow movement. With each iteration he almost withdrew completely before easing back in. Kylo groaned low in his throat as Hux gradually increased the pace, fingers gripping tighter into his thighs and pushing them up towards his chest.

The angle was almost perfect, the head of Hux' cock just grazing his prostate every few thrusts. He hadn't expected to get so close so soon, not after cumming barely two hours before, but he was. Above him Hux was biting his lips trying to maintain the steady rhythm. Releasing the sheets, Kylo tried to pull the other man closer, encouraging him to change the angle.

"Harder Hux, please... deeper... Hux, oh god... come down here," he panted, "kiss me."

"Kylo, you're so fucking tight, if I do that I'm not gonna last." Hux groaned, closing his eyes against the sight of the other man twisting and bucking beneath him.

"Neither am I, please, it doesn't matter, like you said- we have time, Christ Hux I swear, I'll stay here forever, we can do this every goddamn day, just please, kiss me now."

With a growl Hux hoisted Kylo's leg up onto his right shoulder and pressed forward, folding the muscular man in half and impossibly driving himself further inside. Catching Kylo's bottom lip between his teeth he kissed him viciously as he began to snap his thin hips in pounding, relentless rhythm.

His left hand fumbled amongst the sheets for Kylo's right and brought them both down to work his neglected cock, struggling to match the pace with his hand. Kylo nudged Hux' hand away, taking over the action whilst he ran his free hand through the messy red hair. After a moment Hux followed suit and despite the frantic thrusts their kiss turned slow and searching, tongues stroking lazily.

Whimpering slightly as the rhythm of Hux' hips started to become erratic, Kylo increased the pace of his own hand, desperate to come as close to the other man as possible. Opening eyes that he hadn't realised were closed he found Hux looking at him with an expression he couldn't hope to read.

"Fuck. I love you," Hux sighed as he pressed their foreheads together, his back curving as he thrust deep one more time, cumming just as Kylo tensed, joining him.

"I love you, too..." Kylo gasped, wrapping both arms around slender shoulders, holding Hux close as he released his leg and settled against the bulk of his chest.

The fire was dying down now, the light dim as it glinted off dewy skin and tousled hair. Hux had dropped his head onto Kylo's shoulder, breathing heavily against his ear.

"You speak differently." Kylo suddenly said, apropos of nothing.

"Wha?"

Hux felt Kylo's prominent nose nudging into his hair as he turned his head. "When you fuck, you speak differently. Your accent vanished."

"Oh, well, I used to go out in Manchester a lot, to clubs where no one would recognise me. But a lot of the blokes would treat you differently if they thought you were just a bit of rough." He sighed, the fingers of his left hand trailing down the length of Kylo's arm. "I was gonna be an engineer, I was goin' to university, so I learned how to fit in. Then me dad died an' I had to stay to take care of mum. Now I take care of t'lads." He gave an uneven shrug.

"Hux..."

"Yeah?"

"How did you know I was in t'Army? I never told you?"

Above him the older man froze. "It was on your C.V."

"No, it wasn't."

Suddenly the silence of the room wasn't quite so soothing any more.

"Look," Hux started, unable to let the quiet drag, "I... I know you're not Kyle Renford. I don't care about who you are- you're Kylo and that's all that matters."

"How can you know?" Kylo's voice sounded small and impossibly young. "What... What did I do wrong?"

"Nowt, you didn't do anything wrong. Your dad on the other hand.... well. He hired a bunch of spies from an agency run by his own worst enemy, all because he cut corners and went for the cheapest deal. Investigating Union activity by using men who work for Leader Snoke? It was never going to work."

"Snoke... I know that name... He was one of the founders of the Knight's of REN... Oh my god."

Hux chuckled slightly, "your dad and t'National Coal Board have been filling t'Unions coffers the whole time. Once we've enough, we can start using it to make everyone's lives better. We've got a plan. Supreme Leader and me. It's gonna be glorious."

"And you don't care that I'm a spy? That my real name is Ben Solo? Or that I'm a Viscount? With a trust fund?"

Shoving up onto his elbows Hux looked down at the nervous young man beneath him.

"You're not a spy, you're mine. Your real name as far as I'm concerned is Kylo. I don't really know what a Viscount is but I don't see why I should care. And I'm more than happy to stay here with you for now, but if gets any colder you and your trust fund can get us a hotel room."

Gently he pressed a kiss to Kylo's scar.

"I love you. Stay."

"I will..."

 

* * *

 

**BBC Broadcasting House, London, 19th November 2004**

"....welcome back to BBC Breakfast News, I'm Dermot Murnaghan. Today we'll be talking to two of the most influential men in the clean energy industry today- Brendol Hux and Ben 'Kylo' Solo, 3rd Viscount Organa. Lord Organa..."

Hux did his best to resist the eyeroll that naturally accompanied any mention of that title. 'Viscount' had far too much dignity to be associated with his Kylo, a man who'd spent twenty minutes panicking in the toilets despite appearing on television at least once a month for the last decade. Somehow they'd fallen into a good cop/bad cop partnership within the industry. Despite his size and scars Kylo had developed a reputation with the public as a trusted and sympathetic spokesperson. On the other hand their competitors and suppliers found Hux to be a terrifying negotiator. It was a role Hux relished, though the media's habit of addressing Kylo first might cause problems today.

The presenter continued unfazed, "It would be true to say that the two of you are the driving force behind Starkiller Energy, simultaneously the largest supplier of environmentally friendly energy in the UK and the owners of the last fully working mine in England?"

"Well," Kylo began, straightening his tie once more before he leant forward in the eager and earnest pose Hux had come to associate with long rambling speeches, "the company was founded by our colleague, Arthur Snoke, fifteen years ago this month as a last ditch attempt to save collieries like Grimley. Although it eventually became necessary to close the other pits we were able to retrain all of our employees to serve the renewable energy markets, halting the slow collapse of a great many commun..."

Clearing his throat, Hux cut him off. "Yes, of course, Kylo is right, but we're not here to discuss the history of Starkiller today..."

Kylo frowned throughly confused. He glanced at the presenter, but he was suddenly engrossed in his cue cards.

"Well why the hell are we here then Hux?"

Suddenly his hands were sweaty. He'd rehearsed this for weeks, pacing around his office and on the balcony of their penthouse whilst he smoked the cigs he always swore he'd give up next week. But sitting here in a Vivian Westwood suit with more money than either of his parents had ever dreamt of, and about to take a chance he hadn't even suspected would be an option when they met, he felt like he was dreaming. He twisted his hands together to stop them from shaking and turned to Kylo.

"Twenty years ago today," he said, in a voice much clearer than he'd expected, "we finally said something to each other that we've not ever said in public since, and frankly, that's a damn shame in this day and age. No one should ever be ashamed of who they are or feel like they have to hide who they really are just to get by in business. Yesterday the Civil Partnership Act got its Royal Mandate. We're the best of the best, always have been. So if anyone has a problem with working with a company run by two gay men that's their problem. Kylo, I know some might think it not a proper wedding but at forty six I'm tired of waiting, will you marry me?"

"Bloody hell Hux, yes."

“Well, that's certainly a first for the BBC!” Dermot said with a smile before touching his earpiece, "ummm... if we could have less swearing though please?"

Neither man heard him.

 


End file.
